


Seven Year Itch

by NyteFlyer



Category: Donald Strachey Mysteries (Movies)
Genre: Canon Gay Relationship, Dialogue-Only, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyteFlyer/pseuds/NyteFlyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've got an itch to scratch....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Year Itch

_I'll put up no resistance_

_I want to stay the distance_

_I've got an itch to scratch_

_I_ _need assistance  
_

_~~ Touch-A Touch-A Touch Me_ from _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_

 

  


 

“Donald.”

**. . . .**

“Donald.”

**. . . .**

“Don-ALD!”

“What?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You know very well what.”

“I can’t help it. It itches.”

“Yes, and if you don’t leave it alone, it’s going to spread and itch even more.”

“How in the hell could it itch any more than it does right now?”

“If you don’t stop scratching, you’ll find out. Do what I do and try to think about something else.”

“Like you are right now, I suppose?”

“Yes, I…er…sorry.”

“Sorry for scratching or sorry for landing us in the middle of a patch of poison ivy?”  
“Me? It was your bright idea to spend our seventh anniversary out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Hey, I was just trying to give you a little romance for a change. The lake, the mountains, the peace and quiet of the woods. Just you and me and….”

“And ticks and snapping turtles and wasps and….”

“Don’t forget the skunk.”

“Oh, believe me, I will _never_ forget the skunk!”

_chuckles_

“Romance is a five-star hotel with champagne and caviar and a Do Not Disturb sign that doesn’t leave the door handle for days. Romance is satin sheets and rose petals, not crawling into a sleeping bag with _vermin_.”

_laughs harder_

“That was a snake I saw, Donald. I don’t care what you say. I know a snake when I see one.”

“I’m sure you do, sweetheart.”

“And mice! There were mice in the tent last night. I could hear them gathering round, waiting for us to fall asleep.”

“Guess we should have brought Tux, huh?”

“They would have bound and gagged poor Tux and carried him away in the night!. Mosquitoes ate us alive the first day, chiggers the second, and today….”

“Today you were too busy ogling some beefed up asshole of a park ranger to watch where you were going. Then when you got tangled up in vines….”

“I was not ogling. You’d mentioned wanting to climb the fire tower, and I was simply trying to get the ranger’s attention so he could tell us which path to take.”

“Oh, you got his attention, all right. He laughed his extra buff ass off, watching me try to untangle you. I thought he was going to have an aneurism when we both ending up toppling into a thicket full of the most toxic plant known to man. You got his attention and then some!”

_heavy silence_

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Timothy….”

“Well, you accused me of ogling, but you seem to be the one noticing how buff his ass was.”

“Only because you went on and on about how good he looked in shorts.”

“I did not….”

“Did, too.”

“Donald, I simply stated that I liked the type of shorts he was wearing….”

“And that he looked hot in them.”

“What I said was that you should get some shorts like that because you’d look hotter in them than he did.”

“Which means you thought he looked hot to begin with.”

“It means no such thing! You’re the one with the roving eye, not me.”

“Roving eye! Since when….”

“Need I remind you of the time you ignored me to flirt with that biker boy….”

“Oh, here we go! We’re not going to get started on that again, are we? And stop scratching. You’re making me itch worse.”

“Use more calamine.”

“It’s spread to my back now. I can’t reach.”

“Then I’ll reach it for you. Here, take off your shirt.”

**. . . .**

**. . . .**

“That feels nice.”

“Where else do you need it?”

_unintelligible mumbling_

“Excuse me?”

“Ummm…my ass.”

“Oh, no!”

“Look, if you don’t want to….”

“I’d rather look at your ass than that ranger’s any day. Even if it is all red and bumpy at the moment.”

“You sure about that? When you started talking about the way he looked in those shorts, I kind of thought you might be coming down with the seven year itch.”

“Darling, the only person I itch for is you. Always and forever, Donald. I promise.”

“Good. That goes both ways, you know.”

“I know.”

“ _Ahhhhhhhhhh_.”

“Better?”

“ _Yesssssssssssss._ You know, I’ve got another itch that could stand some scratching, if you’re interested.”

“Won’t all that…um…friction?…just spread the rash even more?”

**. . . .**

“Don?”

“I really suck at planning romantic getaways, don‘t I?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Our little woodland adventure’s had its moments. Watching the sun go down by the lake every night has been lovely.”

“Yes, it has.”

“And in spite of the poison ivy incident, we had a nice hike today. We saw those deer, and we had our picnic. And tomorrow you’re going to take me fishing, remember?”

“So you really don’t hate this?”

“How could I hate it? I’m with you. And in spite of the mosquitoes and the ticks….”

“And the snakes and the mice?”

“And even the poison ivy, there’s no place I’d rather be than here, just as long as you‘re here, too, scratching right along beside me.”

“Scratch my itch, Timmy. Please, baby? Come on over here and scratch my itch….”

“Hmmm. Do you think both of us can fit in your sleeping bag?”

“I don’t know, but it’ll sure be fun trying. Oh, and Timmy? Don’t forget the….”

“Lube? Got it right here.”

“That, too. But I was about to say the extra bottle of calamine. Just in case.”


End file.
